


Got You All The Way

by tifaching



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Claustrophobia, Hand Jobs, Incest, Jail, M/M, Male Slash, Post-Hell, Sibling Incest, Slash, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-17
Updated: 2011-10-17
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:28:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/266029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tifaching/pseuds/tifaching
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean's feeling a little claustrophobic.  Sam takes his mind off of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Got You All The Way

Dean’s pacing. Back and forth, wall to wall, so close to Sam that their feet collide every time he passes. Sam’s about ready to trip him just to stop the maddening monotony of it, but the idea of his brother sprawled on the floor in front of him sets a thought in motion that really wouldn’t go over well here.

Like he’s reading Sam’s mind, Dean begins to widen his perimeter, hugging the wall opposite the bunks- striding across the floor in front of the bars and back. The cell’s small enough that Sam could still stick a leg out and send Dean flying, but now that his foot’s not getting stepped on every four seconds or so, he’s willing to let it go for the time being. Besides, if he made Dean stop pacing he’d just start up with some other annoying habit to distract himself from the fact that he’s confined, and the cell’s way too closed in for some of Dean’s favorites. They’re only in here overnight on a mickey-mouse charge of disturbing the peace and Sam doesn’t want it upgraded to homicide because his brother can’t fucking sit still for five minutes. Still, he decides, maybe this time Dean will listen to reason.

“Dean.”

“Yeah?” Dean doesn’t pause, but he does take his eyes off the hallway long enough to glance at Sam.

“I don’t think we’re going to be in here long enough for you to wear a hole in the floor that we can tunnel out of, so why don’t you just sit the hell down.”

“Sorry, Sammy,” Dean gives him a grin as fake as the I.D. he’d handed the arresting officer. “Guess I’m still a little pumped up from that fight you wouldn’t let me finish.”

“If you’d listened to me and never gotten involved, we’d have been out of there before the authorities showed up.”

“Authorities?”

“Shut up.”

“You shut up; dickwads insulted my baby.”

“Yeah, well I notice you didn’t bat an eye when they called me an oversized, long haired, geek.”

Dean’s grin is real this time. “Well, if the insult fits….”

“ _Shut up_!”

Dean just laughs and continues his patrol. Back and forth, back and forth, gaze rarely leaving the hallway. Sam refuses to strain his neck because his brother’s acting like the world’s most annoying ping-pong ball, so he keeps his eyes straight ahead, only seeing Dean during one of his millions of passes directly in front of the bunk.

“What the hell are you looking for?”

“Don’t you remember the last time we were locked up together, genius?”

Sam does and he’s about to call the guard and request a set of those wrist to ankle chains that had kept Dean from moving at all and settling his ass down on the bunk for the rest of the night. That puts those thoughts in motion again though, and they haven’t gotten to be any better of an idea than they were before.

“Yeah, you got shot. By a demon disguised as an F.B.I. agent. Tell me, how likely do you think that is to happen tonight?” Tactful? No, but if it takes Dean’s mind off being locked up, Sam’s okay with it.

“It could happen,” and Dean’s still walking, but more of his attention is on Sam.

“It sure could,” Sam mutters darkly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that if I had a gun right now, I’d probably shoot you myself, because you are driving me fucking nuts with all this pacing!” Sam finishes on a yell and mission accomplished, because Dean’s headed straight for him. Sam jumps to his feet and edges to the side because now he’s got Dean’s attention off being in a cage and right on him, only in a “can’t give Dean what he really needs to take his mind off of things” kind of way.

“You’d shoot me?” Dean’s voice is challenging and he’s all up in Sam’s personal space. “ _You’d_ shoot _me_ , you unnaturally calm…..”

“What?”

“I’m thinking!”

“Don’t strain yourself.”

Then it’s on. Dean elbows Sam, bending his brother double and grabbing him in a headlock. Sam grips Dean around the waist and groans as he straightens up, lifting Dean’s weight off the ground. Dean flails and wriggles against Sam’s side and Sam hip-checks his brother so hard that he yelps.

“Put me down, bitch!”

“Only if you stop pacing!”

“I’ll pace if I want to, you fucking….”

“Hey!” A shout from the other side of the bars still them both. “What the hell is going on here?”

Dean’s out of Sam’s grip in a fraction of a second and planted firmly in front of his brother. The deputy isn’t holding a gun, but her expression freezes both of them.

“He started it,” Dean says quickly and Sam’s mouth is opening to answer that slander, when she cuts him off.

“Do I look like I care who started it? Do I need to separate you two?”

Dean casts a derisive glance around. There are only two cells in the tiny police station and they are the only two prisoners. Right next door isn’t really separated. He could definitely continue to do some prime Sammy bothering from the adjacent cell and there would be nothing his brother could do about it, freakishly long arms notwithstanding.

The deputy correctly interprets his expression. “If you think separating you wouldn’t do any good, just remember that I’ve got a taser and I’m not afraid to use it.” Giving Dean a pointed glare, she adds, “and if I have to listen to those boots clomping around for one more minute, I’m seriously considering putting you out just on general principles.“

Dean puffs out a huffy breath and is about to snark out an answer when Sam whacks him on the back of the head and smiles at the deputy.

“I’m sorry,” he says, and all the deputy can think about is the time her puppy met her at the door after chewing a hole in her new leather sofa. “My brother’s claustrophobic and he’s just trying to distract himself.”

“Sorry,” the deputy says and she even looks it, a little, “but you’re not getting out of here until morning, claustrophobic or not, and I don’t want to hear one peep out of you until then.”

Dean waits until he hears her footsteps fade down the hallway then he rounds on Sam, forgetting all about the taser. “Claustrophobic, bitch? Since when?”

 _Since you got stuck in a tiny wooden box six feet underground_ , Sam thinks, _and probably well before that_ , but he can’t really say that out loud and he wouldn’t have had the chance anyway because Dean doesn’t even pause for breath.

“You’re the one that spent….” Dean cuts himself off so quickly Sam thinks he might have strained something. Probably his god damned big brother Sammy protection muscles, the moron.

“My cage was nothing like this, Dean,” Sam says softly. “But seeing how you were never freaked out by being locked up before your time downstairs, I’m thinking that yours was.”

“Sam…” Dean looks away, but not before his brother sees the truth in his eyes and Dean knows it. “No…I mean...not always.”

“Okay, then.” Sam listens to the silence, scans the area for cameras, then puts a hand on Dean’s hip, slowly sliding it onto his brother’s ass. “How about you stop working so hard to distract me from something I don’t need to be distracted from and let me take care of you for a change.”

“I wasn’t…..I mean I don’t….” Dean cuts himself off again.

Sam kisses him and thinks _yeah, you were and yes, you do_. He backs slowly toward the bunk, hooking his thumbs through Dean’s belt loops and drawing him along.

“Sam,” Dean whispers when his brother comes up for air, “she’s got a taser.”

Sam grins and his breath tickles Dean’s ear as he breathes, “don’t worry, Dean. She’ll have to go through me to get to your annoying ass.”

Dean snorts. “Fuck you, Sam.”

“M’hmmm,” Sam agrees settling himself on the bunk and pulling Dean into his lap. “But not tonight, baby. We’d definitely get lit up if we did that, you being a screamer and all.”

Dean huffs again. “ _You’re_ the screamer, bitch and I am _not_ your baby.” He tries to get up, but Sam’s hands are moving lower and he straddles Sam’s thighs with a groan. “Ungh, yeah. Sammy.”

Sam’s breath is hot on Dean’s neck and then his lips fasten on, suckling tender skin, teeth gently scraping and Dean groans into his brother’s shoulder. Sam works his way up Dean’s throat, nipping and sucking until his mouth is back on Dean’s. “Okay, so far?” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Dean rasps and then groans again as Sam’s hands move to unsnap his jeans, lowering the zipper snick by snick and Dean huffs out a gasp as Sam’s warm hand slides into his boxers and emerges with Dean’s half hard cock in its grip

“Feel good, baby?” Sam breathes into his brother’s ear and Dean just nods into Sam’s shoulder. Dean peers down and Sam’s other hand is busily guiding his own zipper down and pulling his dick out to slide against Dean’s.

Sam wraps one huge hand around both of them and starts a slow journey up to the heads and back, smearing and slicking his palm with pre-come. His other hand slides under Dean’s balls and begins a gentle massage, one ball then the other, pushing Dean to grind into Sam’s grip.

“Gnnnnh, Sammy!” Dean’s groan isn’t as quiet as it should be and Sam’s ball massaging hand comes up to cover his brother’s mouth.

“Shhh, Dean!” Sam’s laughing quietly and suppresses a groan of his own when Dean licks across his palm.

Dean buries his face in Sam’s shoulder, teeth gripping his brother’s flesh as Sam’s hand goes back to fondling his balls and his other hand begins to move faster; a twisting slip, slide that has Dean rocking against Sam and leaving a hot, wet circle of saliva on his brother’s shirt.

“Hold on, Dean. Make it last, baby.”

“Not a baby,” is Dean’s muffled reply, “and no way I’m gonna come before you do, bitch.”

Sam just laughs and strokes harder, thrusting his hips up to meet Dean’s downward motion. His grip loosens and tightens, sliding over the heads of their cocks and back down, and he feels Dean’s balls tightening in his grip.

“Okay, time to let go.” Sam pulls Dean’s head up and presses their lips together, slipping his tongue deep into his brother’s mouth before shooting ropes of pearly white. Dean follows almost immediately and both their chests are coated with come. They keep their mouths plastered together until their breaths don’t come in gasping pants and then the kiss softens and it’s a long, long moment before they break it.

Dean’s lax as he leans against Sam and his head is starting to nod. Sam keeps a satisfied grin from his face. Nothing like a good orgasm to put Dean down for the count. There’ll be no more pacing tonight. Sam pulls off his soaked t-shirt and then his brother’s and uses the still dry bits to clean them off, before tucking them both back in their boxers and stashing the shirts under the mattress. Dressing in layers comes in very useful sometimes.

Sam manhandles Dean off his lap and settles him on the bunk, face to the wall, then stretches out behind him. Dean’s not quite out and a tiny noise of protest escapes him as he pushes back against his brother. There’s a tiny bit of panic in Dean’s not-quite-there eyes, and that’s not the outcome Sam had in mind.

“Hey. Hey, Dean. What’s the matter.”

“Can’t get out….please” and Dean must be in a bad place to admit to that.

“Want to be on the outside?”

“Yeah. Please, Sammy.”

Sam rolls Dean over so he’s facing the bars and slides in behind him, wrapping one arm around his brother’s waist and pulling him close.

“Sleep tight, baby. You’re safe here.” Dean will sleep right through ‘til morning and then they are out of this cage. Until then, Sam’s got him, all the way.


End file.
